


I just want to have my wicked way with you

by liionne



Series: Tumblr Prompts [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, One Night Stands, Tumblr Prompt, steve has Feelings(TM), tinder dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 10:37:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14235459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: "we just had sex and it’s the morning after and i woke up to an empty bed and how could i be so stupid of course you left me alone but wait you’re in my kitchen cooking me breakfast and i’m so relieved"





	I just want to have my wicked way with you

**Author's Note:**

> I got an ask on tumblr directing me to this prompt, and I loved everything about it, so here's my take on it! Beta'd by me, in a bit of a rush, so apologies for any mistakes!
> 
> Title comes from Benjamin Taylor's song _Wicked Way_

Steve doesn't normally do one night stands, for the record. He's more of a long-term kind of guy; in his entire life, he's only had three “significant others”, and he's turning 27 in a week. 

In college, he had dated Peggy Carter, and their relationship had lasted the entire four years, before she had had gone back to London for an internship that had turned into a job.

He had dated Tony Stark for an entire two years, even if Tony had said that it wasn't dating, whilst still being exclusively with Steve, and taking him out on dates. 

Sam had been the only one he hasn't dated for very long - six months, which no, wasn't very long in Steve’s books. They'd been better friends than boyfriends though, so Steve was more than happy to call it off, and had still spent just as much time with him as he had before.

He has  _ had _ one night stands, something he tells Natasha with a furrowed brow. He's not totally out of the loop when it comes to that kind of culture, it's just that normally, he isn't the one picking the other one up.

Or in the terms of tonight, sending the other one a message on a dating app he doesn't remember signing up for (but _does_ remember Natasha installing on his phone).

It takes him almost a full 5 minutes to think up something to say, and he ends up being awkward anyway, but the other guy seems to like it - the other guy is Bucky, 27, who’s less than a mile away.

Steve flicks through Bucky's photos, and sighs softly. Bucky, is  _ hot _ . Like, unbelievably hot. He's got a bright smile with plush lips that Steve wants to  _ bite _ , and tanned skin that Steve wants to  _ lick _ , and he could go on forever, honestly, waxing poetic about that  _ body _ .

They arrange to meet in a bar just down the block from Steve's apartment, in a few hours time. Steve ignores the butterflies in his stomach in favour of texting Natasha and asking her which jeans she thinks better accentuate his ass.

~*~

Bucky, as it turns out, is even hotter in person.

He grins at Steve when he sees him, standing up straight from where he had been previously leaning against the bar, and greets him with a kiss on the cheek. “Can I get you a drink?” He asks. 

He most certainly can.

They talk about lots of things, actually, which Steve is kind of surprised about. He's never done the online dating thing before - or rather, the online hooking-up thing, but he thinks there's normally less talking, more shots and certainly more hands, preferably all over his body.

He's not complaining though, because it turns out that Bucky is more than just a guy with a gorgeous face and a body he can't hide, not in that black v neck and those jet black skinny jeans. He's smart and he's funny and he has some very well developed opinions on all kinds of things. Steve could talk to him all night.

But then Bucky slides his foot up the inside of steve’s calf, and Steve decides that they can talk later.

They go back to Steve's place, because it's closer. They only just manage to make it to the couch, pausing briefly to kiss like the world is ending before they carry on, eventually making it to Steve’s bed.

When it's over, Bucky sits up, and reaches for his jeans. Steve feels boneless, tired, and he watches Bucky wordlessly as he puts himself back together.

“See you round sometime?” He says, looking over his shoulder at Steve.

Steve gives a nod, lips curling into a lazy, satisfied kind of smile, even has his stomach twists into knots. “Hopefully.” He answers.

Bucky snickers, and runs a hand through his hair in a desperate attempt to tame it before he leaves, the front door clicking quietly shut behind him.

Steve groans into his pillow, and falls asleep with a deep feeling of regret settling into his bones.

~*~

“Are you supposed to still be thinking about your one-night stand the morning after?” Steve asks Sam, who huffs softly.

“Depends how good they were.” He shrugs. Steve purses his lips, a sure sign that he's overthinking, so Sam arches an eyebrow. “Speak, Rogers, before your head explodes.”

“It was good.” He says, haltingly, flushing just a little. “It was really good,  _ Mind blowingly  _ good. But it was… More than that. He's a great guy. He's smart, Sam, sharp as a tack, and he's funny, and he's charming--”

“Does Steve have a crush?” Natasha asks, joining them at their brunch table, a cat-like smile curling her lips.

Steve, in response, just groans. When Sam pushes a mimosa at him, he swallows it in two gulps.

~*~

The next time Steve sees Bucky, it's completely by accident, and seemingly in the middle of another date that Bucky would much rather get out of. 

“Steve!” He exclaims, just as soon as their eyes have met across the bar, not five seconds after Steve had walked into the joint in the first place.

Bucky makes some excuse to his date about having to go catch up, and then he joins Steve at the bar, giving him an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” he begins, blushing a little. “You don't have to actually talk to me if you don’t want, just please stand near me so I don't have to go back over there.”

“That bad?” Steve grimaces, hailing the bartender and asking for a beer.

“ _ Awful _ ,” Bucky groans, glancing over his shoulder at the guy, who seems to be back on the app, his thumb swiping this way and that across his phone screen. “He's a real creep. Honestly I just want to get out of here, but I can't figure out a nice way to do it.”

Steve considers that for a moment, and then he slides his phone over to Bucky. “Put your number in there.”

“You're forward,” Bucky says, an amused curve to his mouth.

“It's all part of my plan.” Steve retorts, swatting at him, though he knows he’s blushing.

Bucky arches an eyebrow, but puts his number into Steve's phone regardless. Steve shoos him, telling him to go back to his table, and then he slips quietly out of the bar, and calls Bucky's number.

“Bucky! I'm so glad I got you, there's been an emergency!” 

“An emergency?” Bucky asks, having the good grace to sound shocked. 

“You'll have to come right away!” Steve insists.

“I'll be as fast as I can.” He says gravely, the line going dead. In a prompt 30 seconds, Bucky has exited the bar and is standing in front of Steve, eyebrow arched. “Now what?”

“Now you're out of there.” Steve shrugs, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Bucky seems disappointed by that, which, honestly, Steve wasn't expecting, so he clears his throat and says’ “Or you could come back to my place, if you want? Got a working tv, and the beer’s cheaper too.”

Bucky gives him a smile that's so bright it could power an Easy-Bake Oven, and he nods, hands in his pockets as he walks along beside Steve.

“You always lived in Brooklyn?” Bucky asks, as they troop up the stairs to Steve's apartment, at a pace far more leisurely than they did the last time they were together.

“Born and raised.” Steve confirms. “Never even left Bay Ridge. You?”

“Yeah.” Bucky agrees. “Well, ‘cept I grew up in Flatbush, but I like it out here better.” 

Steve gives a small smile, letting them into the apartment. “I've got Netflix, or we could Mexican wrestling on pay-per-view and--”

His words are abruptly muffled by Bucky’s lips, pressed hard against his, kissing him as though his life depends on it. It's deep and hungry and almost raw, the clash of teeth and tongue, but then Bucky pulls back, Steve panting softly as he looks at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry.” Bucky says, just as breathless as Steve. “I've just--”

“Only be sorry if you're gonna stop.” Steve interrupts, pulling him in for another kiss that sends them tumbling back onto the couch, Steve laid down onto it, Bucky hovering over him. After what feels like an era of making out, Bucky grins at Steve, almost wicked looking in the half-light of the apartment. "Bed?"

“Please,” Steve groans, more than happy to let Bucky tug him down the hall.

~*~

Bucky pulls on his jeans in the dark, and then his shirt, and then he fumbles to make sure he has everything that he arrived with.

“Until next time?” He says, this time leaning over to steal one last kiss.

“Next time.” Steve agrees, hoping the sleepiness in his voice hides the disappointment.

A flash of that smile in the dark, and then he's gone, the door once again announcing his departure.

~*~

Now that Bucky has his number, Steve's life is a disaster.

It had started out with one text:  **I’m bored :-(** which had become two texts:  **this is Bucky btw**

Steve had stared at his phone, amazed, and then typed back,  **Want me to entertain you?**

Bucky had texted back  **PLS** , which had led to Steve sending him a selfie of himself sitting at his desk and working, drawing cartoons for a living. It had also been the beginning of what has now escalated to this: Steve, sending Bucky a selfie of himself fresh out of the shower, hair still wet and water dripping down his neck and his chest.

The reply comes about 0.2 seconds after Bucky receives the message.

**Can I come over?**

Steve is more than happy to oblige.

~*~

It keeps happening. Bucky keeps coming over, and Steve keeps falling into his arms (and other places), and then Bucky leaves in the middle of the night, like he's the other woman doing his best to evade capture. Except that there is no woman to be the  _ other _ to, because Steve is still desperately single and pining over one James Buchanan Barnes.

They don't always fuck. Well, no, that's a lie - the always fuck. But it's not always the sole objective. They hang out, they chat, they order pizzas and watch movies. Then somehow it migrates to kissing, and then grinding, and then somehow Bucky's fingers are in Steve's ass and Steve has bigger things on his mind than how “hey Steve do you wanna watch the game together” turned into fucking. 

But Bucky always leaves. He always goes.  At the end of every night he slinks out of the apartment with some muttered line that Steve half-way returns, too frightened to ask Bucky to stay. God, he wants him to stay.

Instead, he watches his shadow leave and hears the front door click and curses himself for getting into this mess in the first place.

~*~

One night, before he can stop himself, Steve says, “have you been on any more dates?”

It's about as subtle as an elephant, and he immediately regrets having ever opened his mouth, wincing a little as he looks to Bucky. But Bucky hasn't even moved, his eyes still on the TV, almost like he didn't hear Steve at all. But then his mouth twitches, and he shakes his head, saying, “Nah. Last one has put me off for life. Or, well, at least another six months. You?”

“No.” Steve murmurs, looking very pointedly at the television. “No more dates.”

“Have a disaster yourself? Or have I ruined dating forever for you?” Bucky grins, waggling his eyebrows at Steve, who blushes furiously and drops his gaze to his hands.

“Something like that.” He mutters.

“Stevie?” Bucky asks, his brow furrowing. “Something wrong?”

Steve must be feeling extra courageous tonight or something, because it seems to be all too easy for him to look up into those blue-grey eyes and say, “I haven't been on any more dates because I like you. A lot.”

Steve hopes he imagined that that just happened, but from the way Bucky's eyes widen, he's assuming he really did say it out loud. Shit. He's about to take it back, play it off as a joke when suddenly Bucky is kissing him, hard and deep and desperate, his hands moving to clutch at Steve's shoulders.

“I like you too, you moron.” He says, when he pulls back long clock Steve's quizzical expression.

“You do?” Steve pants.

“You think I do this with all my tinder hookups?” Bucky asks, kissing Steve again, a little slower jot but just as hungry. “I like you, Steve. Haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the first time.”

“God,” Steve groans against Bucky's lips, frantic as he pulls him closer, all but clambering into his lap.

They manage to make it to the bedroom, the path from the couch now familiar to them both, so familiar that they can do it whilst shedding their clothes, hands roaming all over each other. Steve nips at Bucky's neck, sucks to leave a mark, and revels in the sounds that Bucky makes.

Somewhere between their frantic kisses, someone has the good mind to slow it down, so that when Bucky pushes into Steve it isn't rushed, and the drag of his hips is achingly slow, good in a way Steve had never thought possible. When he comes he sees stars, and when Bucky flops down next to him on the mattress, Steve reaches out for him, winds one arm around him and tangles their legs together.

“Stay.” He murmurs, nuzzling his neck. “Please stay.”

“Not going anywhere, Stevie.” Bucky murmurs, catching his kiss-swollen lips in one last kiss, before the two of them begin to doze.

~*~

In the morning, Steve cracks one eye open, and finds the bed empty.

His heart immediately plummets into his stomach, hard like stone, and he has to work to fight off actual god damn tears. He said all those things to Bucky last night, and yet he had still left, snuck out before Steve could keep him any longer.

He needs to shower but first he needs coffee. He pulls on a pair of boxers from the floor and trudges into the kitchen, to be met with the smell of pancakes and the sound of sizzling bacon. 

Bucky is at the stove, wearing Steve's robe and humming as he cooks, apparently also working on some eggs. When he spots Steve he grins, and then looks a little bashful. “I’m going to replace everything I use.” He begins as Steve moves closer. “I just thought, after last night--”

Steve kisses him. Despite the morning breath and the fact that he's in yesterday's boxers, Steve kisses him slowly, sweetly, and with such a feeling of relief he's sure that Bucky will be able to feel it too.

“Sorry,” Steve murmurs against his lips, pulling back an inch. “I just, when I woke up alone, I thought…”

“I'm a man of my word, Stevie,” Bucky says, leaning in for one more slow, tender kiss. “I'm not going anywhere, so long as you want me.”

Steve hugs him, arms winding around Bucky's waist, and he smiles when Bucky hugs him back tightly. “I thought we could have breakfast and then shower,” Bucky says, peeling away from Steve to flip the pancake and move the bacon around the pan. “We should shower together, of course. Save on water.”

“Very economical.” Steve nods, shifting to take a seat at the breakfast island in the kitchen, watching Bucky as he works.

~*~

The breakfast dishes go untouched, Steve and Bucky using hands and mouths to explore each other's bodies a little more thoroughly, in the shower to begin with, and then in the bed as well. In the morning, Steve marvels about the fact that Bucky is still there, and when Bucky catches him at it he rolls his eyes, pulling him closer and holding him tightly.

**Author's Note:**

> I very nearly actually wrote the smut in a lot more detail, but I appreciate it's not what I normally do. If anyone is _interested_ in something a little more explicit, lemme know in the comments - I have a lot already written that I later edited out.
> 
> Reminder that you can end me any prompts, questions or comments on [tumblr](http://liionne.tumblr.com/ask), or you can leave them down below.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
